Friday the 13th
by DragonJ
Summary: If I had a LiveJournal, this would be the stuff that I'd post on there.


This is fiction, based loosely on truth.

---

15 minutes before, and I was panicking. The singers weren't there, besides one girl wandering around lost on the second floor. The flowers weren't there. The candy wasn't there. The show was supposed to start three minutes ago, and the various parts of it were still strewn about campus and who knows where. I watched the glowing red numbers of the digital clock slowly tick its way past another minute I would never have back. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it all to hell.

---

6 months before, and I believed in love at first sight. I hadn't really ever noticed the quiet girl in the back of my information systems class until that day. In fact, I might not have ever noticed her if not for a dysfunctional bag. Placed the CD case in the pocket, watched it fall out. Stuck it in a little harder, watched it fall out. Finally, irked, jammed it in as hard as I could - and it stuck - half in, half out, but stationary nonetheless. I pumped my fist in triumph, then felt eyes upon me. Looked behind me, she smiled, and the world never felt like a better place to live in. I turned around to face her and tried to match that dazzling smile. "Persistence pays off, right?" I asked her.

The CD case clanked as it fell out of the bag behind me.

---

10 minutes before, and I was nearly catatonic with worry. A second singer had finally made her way to approximately the proper whereabouts. Unfortunately, her previously lost compatriot had decided she would no longer be lost on an entirely different floor. Now I had two lost singers wandering around the building, and still no signs of roses or candy.

---

3 months before, and I had decided destiny had cast its lot with me. Everywhere on campus I went, she seemed to be waiting. Her smile entranced me in the campus center, the business building, classrooms of all sorts, the bakery, and even amidst the library stacks. Our conversations varied - complaints about the rote memorization of our chosen field, photography, art, future plans, and yes, she was single she whispered to me as we dodged the librarian. "Seize the day," I told myself. "Someone up there has sent you an angel."

---

5 minutes before, and I felt the first glimmers of hope. Three quarters of the group of singers had made their way to the foyer of the building, and were now searching for their destination. I surreptitiously made my way over to her workspace. She was still there, tapping away on her keyboard while a faint smile played over the corners of her lips. I ducked out before my heart melted further.

---

1 month before, and I was riding an emotional roller coaster. I thought I had blown it - another chance encounter in the library, I asked her what she was doing, she told me she was waiting for her partner for a project, and then I pressed forward with a somewhat awkward invitation to grab some dinner. Not so much awkward because of my intent, but rather, because midway through my proposition my brain registered what she had just told me, and that realization led to a conclusion that I was an idiot, and ohshitohshitohshit what was I saying while I was thinking all this? Luckily, at least some of it must have come out clearly as short conversation ensued, the general gist of it being that this group project was important and she had to wait, and maybe next time would work better? I nodded an affirmative and slunk away, convinced my chances had been torpedoed.

But that night, a change on her Facebook profile convinced me in musical fashion that "Some philosophies fuel a belief in the self, constructed to keep one's goods on one's own shelf. Built well you're a strong letter I, with your feet on the ground and your head to the sky. Now and then you can bend. It's okay to lean over my way." I noted to myself that I should attempt to lean over her way as soon as possible.

---

3 minutes before, and I was amped up. Even though my plan was far behind schedule, at least the pieces were falling into place. The singers had all managed to make their way to the foyer, and a single rose poked its crimson head out of a haphazardly closed bag. One of the singers looked up at my position on the second floor balcony. "Excuse me," she asked. "Could you tell me where I can find the Lotus Appreciation Society?"

---

3 days before, and I was trying to figure out if anyone besides myself could read my handwriting. I had asked for guidance from a female acquaintance of mine. "Write her a note," she told me. "If a guy gave me a handwritten note, I'd think it was the sweetest thing ever."

I stole a glance at the green origami lotus a Buddhist nun had once given me. "Each gift we give makes the world a better place to live," she had lectured to me. I pondered this for a second. A better place to live, huh?

I love the lotus, because even whilst growing from the mud, it remains unstained. Your smile reminds me of that - no matter how bad of a day I'm having, every time you smile at me it's like a beam of sunlight...

I drop it in her mailbox. A few hours later I realize I didn't sign it.

--

2 minutes before, and I'm practically shivering with anticipation. The singers are doing their warmups, and the soloist is mouthing his lines as I run over mine in my head. In unison, we repeat the same sentiment. I just want to tell you how I'm feeling.

---

2 days before, and I'm mortified. "You definitely screwed up," my friend laughed at me. "Who gives a girl a paper flower and a note? That's out of the 1800s."

He leans closer to me. "But tell you what, I got the thing for you. All of us in the chorus are doing singing Valentines this year, and from what you've told me of her I think it'd go over great. Does she have a sense of humor?"

I nod.

"How about 'Never Gonna Give You Up'? I guarantee she'll love it."

---

1 minute before, and I mouthed a silent prayer to whoever might be listening. The singers have finished warming up, and we're trooping our way to her cubicle. "Stay confident," I tell myself. "Stay positive. You got this."

---

1 day before, and I've ended up just plain confused. Seeking last minute advice, I found my most popular friend and asked him his opinion of my plans. "Are you kidding me?" he sputters. "Notes and singing valentines? Shit man, listen to me. Where are your balls? Don't bother with that girly bullshit. All you gotta do is just be confident and go in there with the right attitude. Just walk in there and be like 'I'm the shit. I'm amazing. Date me.'"

---

It's time, and my confidence has ended up somewhere between oblivion and the aether. The singers have just finished their rendition of Rick Astley's 80s hit and delivered the rose and candy. A somewhat bemused expression crosses her face as they slowly depart.

"Right attitude. Right mindset," I intone to myself as I step forward. "Confidence. I'm the shit."

As our eyes meet, a huge smile crosses her face and confidence surges through my veins. I'm the shit. I'm a beast. I'm unstoppable.

"Was this your doing?" she asks me, one eyebrow raised and a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

I smile back, in what I imagine is a roguish fashion. "Well, yeah, you got me. I guess... in the immortal words of Rick Astley, I want to let you know how I'm feeling. I just think you're a really fun and interesting person to be around and..."

I trail off for a second. Something's wrong. Her smile seemed to drop for a little bit, then harden. It doesn't feel natural. I don't feel natural. "I'm the shit. I'm the shit." I think to myself. "Don't give up now."

I continue onwards, false bravado plastered across my face. "And I was just wondering... um, y'know... maybe if you weren't doing anything tomorrow, we could hang out and uhhh maybe get to know each other a little better?"

Her smile has disappeared. So has whatever was left of my spine. I want to run away. Instead, I stand stiffly, rooted to the spot as the truth inundates my soul.

"I'm really flattered, honestly, I am." she tells me. "But I think of you as just a friend, you know? And anyways..."

I never hear the rest of what she has to tell me. Blood pounds in my temples as memories rush through my head. Memories of conversations, of destiny, of a perfect smile for me - didn't they mean anything? The lotus, the note, the singing valentine, the rose, the candy, don't they mean anything? I can only stand there, helplessly, as my plans implode around me. I'm the shit... I'm the shit... I feel like shit.

"Yeah..." I mumble thickly. "I sort of could see this coming... but I just wanted to try. Thanks for hearing me out in any case."

I turn around so she won't see my forced smile crack into abject despair. Even now, I can't imagine ever making her feel guilty.

"See you around I guess."

---

It's Friday, the 13th of February, and half a year of hopes and dreams has just crumbled away to nothingness.

---

It's Saturday, the 14th of February, and I am alone.


End file.
